The Mammoth Hunters

  The firestones owned by each hearth were considered magic and held sacred, and kept in the niche along with the figure of the Mother, but Barzec gave away several tinder kits which he devised, that were remarked on with great enthusiasm. They were convenient for carrying and contained materials especially easy to light with the firestarting spark—fluffy fibers, crushed dried dung, slivers of wood—and had a place for the firestone and flint-striker when traveling.

  With the chilling wind of evening, the Camp took their warm feelings inside and closed the heavy insulating drapes behind them. There was a time of settling down, of changing to their ceremonial clothes or adding the final decorative pieces, of refilling cups with a favorite beverage, a brisk herbal tea, or Talut’s bouza. Then they all found their way to the Mammoth Hearth for the serious part of the Spring Festival.

  Ayla and Deegie beckoned to Latie to invite her to sit with them; she was almost one of them now, almost a young woman. Danug and Druwez looked at her with unaccustomed shyness as she passed. She straightened her shoulders and held her head high, but refrained from speaking. Their eyes followed after her. Latie smiled as she sat between the two women, feeling very special, and very much that she belonged.

  Latie had been playmate and friend to the boys when they were children, but she was not a child any more, nor a girl to be ignored or disdained by young males. She had passed into the magically attractive, slightly threatening, and altogether mysterious world of woman. Her body had changed its shape, and she could cause unexpected, uncontrollable feelings and responses in their bodies just by walking by. Even a direct look could be disconcerting.

  But more daunting was something they had only heard about. She could make blood come out of her body with no wound and seemingly no pain, and somehow that made her able to draw the magic of the Mother into herself. They didn’t know how, they only knew that one day she would bring forth new life from inside her body; one day Latie would make children. But first a man would have to make her a woman. That would be their role—not with Latie, of course, she was sibling and cousin, too closely related. But someday, when they were older and had more experience, they might be selected to perform that important function because even though she could make blood, a female could not make children until a man made her a woman.

  The coming Summer Meeting would prove enlightening for the two young men, also, particularly Danug, since he was older. They were never pushed, but when they were ready, there would be women who had dedicated themselves to honor the Mother for a season, who would make themselves available to young men, to give them experience, and to teach them the ways and the mysterious joys of women.

  Tulie walked to the center of the group, holding up and shaking the Speaking Staff, and waited for the people to quiet down. When she had everyone’s attention, she gave the decorated ivory shaft to Talut, who was in full regalia, including his mammoth tusk headpiece. Mamut appeared, dressed in an ornately decorated white leather cape. He held a cunningly fashioned shaft of wood that seemed to be a single piece, except that one end was a dry, bare, dead branch, and the other end bursting with green buds and small new leaves. He gave it to Tulie. As headwoman, the Spring Festival was hers to open. Spring was the women’s time of year; the time of birth and new life, the time of new beginnings. She held the double-ended shaft in both hands, over her head, pausing for full effect, then brought it down sharply across her knee, breaking it in two, symbolizing the end of the old and the beginning of the new year, and the start of the ceremonial part of the evening.

  “The Mother has smiled upon us with great favor this past cycle,” Tulie began. “We have so much to celebrate it will be difficult to know which significant event to use to mark the counting of the year. Ayla was adopted as a Mamutoi, so we have a new woman, and the Mother has chosen to make Latie ready for womanhood, so we soon will have another.” Ayla was surprised to hear herself included. “We have a new baby girl to be named and numbered among us, and a new Union to be announced.” Jondalar closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Tulie continued, “We have come through the winter well and healthy, and it is time for the cycle to begin again,”

  When Jondalar looked up, Talut had stepped forward and had the Speaking Staff. He saw Nezzie signal to Latie. She got up, smiled nervously at the two young women who had made her feel so secure, and approached the big, flaming-haired man of her hearth. Talut smiled at her with encouragement and loving affection. She saw Wymez standing beside her mother. His smile, though less infectious, was just as full of pride and love for his sister’s daughter, and his heir, who would soon be a woman. It was an important moment for them all.

  “I am very proud to give notice that Latie, the first daughter of the Lion Hearth, has been made ready to become a woman,” Talut said, “and to announce that she will be included in the Celebration of Womanhood at the Meeting this summer.”

  Mamut stepped toward her and handed her an object. “This is your muta, Latie,” he said. “With this as a place for the Mother to reside, you can establish a hearth of your own someday. Keep it in a safe place.”

  Latie took the carved ivory object and went back to her place, and was delighted to show her muta to those nearby. Ayla was interested. She knew it had been made by Ranec because she had one like it, and recalling the words that had been spoken, she began to realize why he had given it to her. She needed a muta to establish a hearth with him.

  “Ranec must be trying to work out something new,” Deegie commented, seeing the bird-woman figure. “I haven’t seen one like this before. It’s very unusual. I’m not sure if I understand it. Mine looks more like a woman.”

  “He gave me one like Latie’s,” Ayla said. “I thought of it as both a woman and a bird, depending upon how you look at it.” Ayla took Latie’s muta and showed it from different angles and perspectives. “He said he wanted it to represent the Mother in Her spiritual form.”

  “Yes, I can see it, now that you showed me,” Deegie said. She gave the little figure back to Latie, who cradled it carefully in her hands.

  “I like it. It’s not like everyone else’s, and it means something special,” Latie said, glad that Ranec gave her a muta that was unique. Even though he had never lived at the Lion Hearth, Ranec was her brother, too, but he was so much older than Danug that he felt more like an uncle than a brother. She didn’t always understand him, but she looked up to him, and knew that he was esteemed by all the Mamutoi as a carver. She would have been happy with any muta made by him, but she was pleased that he had chosen to give her one like Ayla’s. He would only give a carving that he considered his best to Ayla.

  The ceremony for the naming of Fralie’s baby had already begun, and the three young women turned their attention to it. Ayla recognized the ivory plaque incised with cut marks that Talut was holding up, and felt a moment of concern, remembering her adoption. But the ceremony was obviously one that was quite common. Mamut must know what to do. As she watched Fralie present her infant to the shaman and the headman of the Lion Camp, Ayla suddenly remembered another naming ceremony. It had been spring then, she recalled, only she had been the mother, and she had presented her baby fearfully, expecting the worst.

  She heard Mamut say, “What name have you chosen for this child?” And she heard Fralie reply, “She is to be called Bectie.” But in her mind, Ayla heard Creb say, “Durc. The boy’s name is Durc.”

  Tears were in her eyes as she felt again her gratitude, and her relief, when Brun excepted her son, and Creb named him. She looked up and noticed Rydag, who was sitting in the midst of several children with Wolf on his lap, watching her, with the same large, brown, ancient eyes that reminded her so much of Durc. She felt a sudden longing to see her son again, but then was struck with a realization. Durc was mixed, like Rydag, but he had been born to the Clan, named and accepted by the Clan, raised by the Clan. Her son was Clan, and she was dead to the Clan. She shuddered, and tried to dispel the thoughts.

  The sound of an infant’s shocked how
l snapped Ayla’s attention back to the ceremony. The baby’s arm had been nicked with a sharp knife, and a mark cut into the ivory plaque. Bectie had been named and numbered among the Mamutoi. Mamut was pouring the stinging solution on the small cut, making the tiny baby who had never known any pain voice her displeasure even louder, but the angry insistent squall of the infant brought a smile to Ayla’s face. In spite of her early birth, Bectie had grown strong. She was healthy enough to cry. Fralie held Bectie out for all to see, then cuddling the infant, she sang a song of comfort and joy in a high, sweet voice, which quieted the baby. When she was through, she went back to her place near Frebec and Crozie. Within a few moments, Bectie began to cry again, but the baby’s cries ceased with a suddenness that announced she had been offered the best of comforts.

  Deegie nudged her, and Ayla realized the time had come. It was her turn. She was being beckoned forward. For a moment, she couldn’t move. Then she wanted to run away, but there was no place to go. She didn’t want to make this Promise to Ranec, she wanted Jondalar, wanted to beg him not to leave without her, but when she looked up and saw Ranec’s eager, happy, smiling face, she took a deep breath, then stood up. Jondalar didn’t want her, and she had told Ranec she would Promise. Reluctantly, Ayla walked toward the co-leaders of the Camp.

  The dark man watched her coming toward him, out of the shadows and into the light of the central fire, and his breath caught in his throat. She was wearing the pale leather outfit Deegie had given her, the one that was so perfect for her, but her hair was not up in braids or buns, or one of the complex styles that incorporated beads or ornaments usually worn by the Mamutoi women. In deference to the Clan root ceremony, she had let her hair hang loose, and the thick, shining waves that fell below her shoulders gleamed in the firelight, and framed her unique, finely sculptured face with a golden halo. At that moment, Ranec was convinced she was the Mother incarnate, born into the body of the perfect Spirit Woman. He wanted her for his woman so much, it was almost a pain, an ache of yearning, and he could hardly believe this night was true.

  Ranec was not alone in being awed by her beauty. As she stepped into the light of the fire, the whole Camp was caught by surprise. The Mamutoi clothing, richly elegant, and the glorious natural beauty of her hair, made a stunning combination, enhanced by the dramatic lighting. Talut thought of the value she would add to the Lion Camp, and Tulie was determined to set a very high Bride Price, even if she had to contribute half of it herself, for the status it would bestow on all of them. Mamut, already convinced that she was destined to Serve the Mother in some important way, took note of her instinctive sense of timing, and natural flair for the dramatic, and knew that someday she would be a force to be reckoned with.

  But no one felt the impact of her presence more than Jondalar. He was as dazzled by her beauty as Ranec, but Jondalar’s mother had been a leader, and then his brother after her; Dalanar had founded and was the leader of a new group, and Zolena had reached the highest rank of the zelandonia. He had grown up among the natural leaders of his own people, and he sensed the qualities that were noticed by the Lion Camp’s co-leaders and shaman. As though someone had kicked him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him, he suddenly understood what he had lost.

  As soon as Ayla reached Ranec’s side, Tulie began.

  “Ranec of the Mamutoi, son of the Fox Hearth of the Lion Camp, you have asked Ayla of the Mamutoi, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth of the Lion Camp, and protected by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, to join together to form a union and establish a hearth. Is this true, Ranec?”

  “Yes, it is true,” he answered, then turned to Ayla with a smile of absolute joy.

  Talut then addressed Ayla. “Ayla of the Mamutoi, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth of the Lion Camp, and protected by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, do you agree to this union with Ranec of the Mamutoi, son of the Fox Hearth of the Lion Camp?”

  Ayla closed her eyes and swallowed before she responded. “Yes,” she finally said, in a barely audible voice, “I agree.”

  Jondalar, sitting at the back near the wall of the lodge, closed his eyes and clenched his jaw until his temples throbbed. It was his own fault. If he hadn’t forced her, maybe she wouldn’t be turning now to Ranec. But she had already turned to him, she had been sharing his bed. From the first day she was adopted by the Mamutoi, she had shared his bed. No, he had to admit, that wasn’t quite true. After that first night, she didn’t share the carver’s bed at all until after they had that stupid argument, and he left the Mammoth Hearth. Why had they argued? He hadn’t been angry with her, he was just worried about her. Then why had he left the Mammoth Hearth?

  Tulie turned to Wymez, who was standing next to Ranec, beside Nezzie. Ayla hadn’t even noticed him. “Do you accept this union between the son of the Fox Hearth and the daughter of the Mammoth Hearth?”

  “I accept this union, and welcome it,” Wymez replied.

  “And you, Nezzie?” Tulie asked. “Will you accept a union between your son, Ranec, and Ayla, if a suitable Bride Price can be arranged?”

  “I accept the union,” the woman replied.

  Talut spoke next, to the old man beside Ayla. “Mamutoi Spirit Seeker, he who has relinquished name and hearth, he who was called, he who is dedicated to the Mammoth Hearth, he who speaks to the Great Mother of all, the One Who Serves Mut,” the headman said, carefully reciting all the shaman’s names and appellations, “does the Mamut agree to a union between Ayla, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, and Ranec, son of the Fox Hearth?”

  Mamut did not answer immediately. He looked at Ayla, who was standing with her head bowed. She waited, and when he didn’t speak, she looked at him. He studied her expression, noted her posture, the aura about her.

  “The daughter of the Mammoth Hearth may join with the son of the Fox Hearth, if she wishes,” he finally said. “There is nothing to ban such a joining. She does not need my approval or acceptance, or anyone’s. The choice is hers. The choice will always be hers, no matter where she is. If ever she needs permission, I give it to her. But she will always remain the daughter of the Mammoth Hearth.”

  Tulie eyed the old man. She felt there was more to his words than there seemed. There was something ambiguous about his response and she wondered what he meant, but she decided she could think about it later.

  “Ranec, son of the Fox Hearth, and Ayla, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, have declared their intention to join together. They wish to form a union to mingle their spirits, and to share one hearth. All those concerned have concurred,” Tulie said, then turned to the carver. “Ranec, if you are joined, will you promise to give Ayla the protection of yourself and your male spirit, will you care for her when she is blessed by the Mother with new life, and will you accept her children as the children of your hearth?”

  “Yes, I promise. It is what I want more than anything,” Ranec said.

  “Ayla, if you are joined, will you promise to care for Ranec and give him the protection of your mother’s power, will you welcome the Mother’s Gift of Life without reservation, and will you share your children with the man of your hearth?” Tulie said.

  Ayla opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out at first. She coughed and cleared her throat, then finally replied, but her answer was almost inaudible. “Yes, I promise.”

  “Do all hear and witness this Promise?” Tulie said to the people who were gathered.

  “We hear and witness,” the group responded. Then Deegie and Tornec began to beat a slow rhythmic pace on their bone instruments, subtly changing the tone to accompany the voices which started chanting.

  “You will be joined at the Summer Matrimonial, so that all the Mamutoi may witness,” Tulie said. “Circle the hearth three times to assure the Promise.”

  Ranec and Ayla, side by side, marched slowly around the hearth to the sound of the tonal music and chanting people. It was done. They were Promised. Ranec was ecstatic. He felt as though his feet barely touched the ground as he walked. His happiness w
as so all-consuming it was impossible to believe that Ayla didn’t share it. He had noticed a certain reluctance, but he made excuses, assumed it was shyness, or that she was tired, or nervous. He loved her so much it was beyond him to consider that she didn’t love him the same way.

  But Ayla felt heavy at heart as she circled the firepit, though she tried not to show it. Jondalar slumped down, unable to support himself, as though his very bones had collapsed, feeling like an empty, discarded pouch. More than anything, he wanted to leave, to run from the sight of the beautiful woman he loved walking beside the happily grinning dark-skinned man.

  When they completed the third circuit, there was a pause in the ceremonies for well-wishing and gift-giving, to all of the celebrants. Gifts for Bectie included the space given to the Crane Hearth by the Aurochs Hearth, as well as an amber and seashell necklace, and a small knife in a decorated sheath, that were the beginning of the wealth she would accumulate in her lifetime. Latie was given personal gifts important for a woman, and a beautiful and richly decorated summer tunic from Nezzie, to be worn during the festivities at the Summer Meeting. She would receive many more gifts from relatives and close friends in other Camps.

  Ayla and Ranec were given household items: a ladle carved from a horn, a two-handled scraper that was used to soften the inner sides of furs, with a slot for a replaceable blade, woven floor mats, cups, bowls, platters. Though Ayla felt they received many things, they were only a token. They would receive many more at the Summer Meeting, but they, and the Lion Camp, would also be expected to give gifts in return. Small or large, gifts were never without obligations, and the accounting of who owed what to whom was a complex but endlessly fascinating game.

  “Oh, Ayla, I’m so glad we’re going to be joined at the same time!” Deegie said. “It will be so much fun planning it with you, but you’ll be coming back here, and I’ll be going off to build a new lodge. I’m going to miss you next year. It would be such great fun to know who the Mother blesses first. You or me. Ayla, you must be so happy.”